


Reciprocate

by fandumbandflummery



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandumbandflummery/pseuds/fandumbandflummery
Summary: Kallus shows Jun that there are ways other than straight-up sex to have fun after a lucky escape.





	Reciprocate

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a sex tropes writing prompt meme. Also written before Zero Hour premiered, hence Sato being yknow, alive. 
> 
> As Kallus doesn't have a first name in canon yet, I decided to give him one. Thuban, incidentally, is the old North Star and one of the stars that make up the constellation Draco/Dragon.

If someone had told Jun Sato that at some point during this Rebellion-cum-Civil War, that he’d be stripped to his skivvies with an Imperial defector sprawled on his bed beneath him and finally relieving a months-long dry spell, he’d have told them they were mad.

Even if it was Ahsoka and her uncanny Unifying Force senses telling him.

However if they’d said that the defector was ISB-021, better known as Agent Kallus, he’d have been bizarrely more inclined to agree.

They’d had Imperial traitors pass through the halls of Phoenix One before - but none had been such absolute lookers as this latest wayward ISB agent. Thuban - it’s so odd to think of him by his first name, now - is gorgeous, with his chiseled face and body, ivory skin touched all over with freckles, thick blond hair, beguiling golden eyes - and that deep aristocratic voice that had asked, in no uncertain terms, if Sato wanted to blow off some steam. 

Well, what was he supposed to say to that?

Apart from an emphatic “Gods, yes please.”

It’s been fantastic to rut and dry-hump, and share absolutely filthy kisses for what feels like hours on end. To hear Thuban moan softly whenever their stiff cocks rub through their shorts, and to admire the pink flush blooming on his skin, making a delicious contrast with Sato’s own golden tone.

All that is great, but what Sato frankly really wants is to pound the man’s (perfect, firm, freckle-dusted) arse into oblivion. But when he goes to shift them into a more suitable position for the deed, Kallus groans in a rather more pained manner than Sato would like to hear during sex.

“Jun, please. Not tonight,” he pants, pushing Sato away a little, visibly wincing. The Empire hadn’t let their traitorous prize get away unscathed, and the large bacta-impregnated patch spanning his left side is proof enough. Suddenly Jun feels extremely guilty and rather ashamed of letting his libido make him forget this.

“Shit, Thuban I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” he back-pedals, kissing the ex-Imperial’s forehead and stroking his un-injured side soothingly.

“It’s not that - honestly, I’ve fucked with worse injuries,” Kallus says bluntly, “but you’ve got no protection anywhere in this room.”

“What? How did you-” Jun sputters indignantly, sitting up on his knees. When had the man gone through his cabin in a quest for condoms - and furthermore why hadn’t he seen anything to suggest this?

“Your door code was easy enough to obtain from the ship’s security database,” Kalllus replies, as if reading Sato’s mind through his incredulous expression alone, “Chopper is a combative little droid but he’s very capable when called on for strategically important purposes.”

It’s an indication of just how damn horny Sato is that he hasn’t thrown the man out on his ass into the hallway for this gross violation of his privacy. He supposes that one can take the spy to a rebellion, but not take the spy out of the rebel.

“I imagined they drilled it into you at ISB school that we rebels and dissenters are nothing but festering sewers of VD,” Jun grumbles. 

“No, but I’m an adult male who’s seen far too many ISB field agents picking at their Mandalorian Jock Sores when they thought nobody was looking, and not fancied the same fate for my own lower-deck battery.” Kallus retorts, then sighs. 

“It’s nothing against you, Jun, but I’d just…feel more at peace if we had something. For your sake.”

Sato nods, once more feeling a bit guilty about his earlier feelings - whether from sex or injury, he knows that ISB personnel have a high risk of catching the nastier sorts of pathogen. From the tone of his voice, Sato can tell that Thuban is as concerned about his health and safety as much his own.

“We’re just going to have to try something else, Jun. Ah! Shift, please,” Kallus grunts, sitting up from his formerly prone position.

For a moment Jun is confused. He can’t fuck Kallus - or be fucked by him - and yet he’s being manhandled into a position that seems conducive to some kind of penetrative activity. He finds himself on his back, shoulders propped up against the padded headboard of his bunk and Kallus kneeling between his spread thighs.

Kallus and unceremoniously and efficiently tugs his shorts down - making Sato gasp when the waistband drags over his cock - and tosses them away.

“Th-Thuban, what are you…” He barely has time to react when Kallus takes a hold of his cock, gives it a few firm strokes, laps tentatively at the slick head - and then opens his mouth wide to swallow it down.

Sato nearly shouts in surprise. His hips buck up on pure reflex, trying to fuck the ex-ISB man’s throat, but are pinned easily by Kallus’s terrifyingly strong hands. Kallus draws back until only the head remains between his lips, and looks Sato right in the eye as he gives it a hard suck before throating him again. He repeats the motions again and again, stopping every so often just to lick him slowly from root to tip, fondle his balls, flicker his tongue against the sensitive underside of the head, all without breaking eye contact - not like Sato could bring himself to look away from the spectacle, and despite Kallus’s best effort to draw things out, he comes embarrassingly fast.

His back arches, hips stuttering uselessly against the blond’s iron grip, with one hand fisted in the sheets and the other in Kallus’s hair for to ground himself as orgasm washes over and through him. Sato doesn’t’ quite scream, but he does make enough noise for someone in an adjoining berth to thump on the wall and yell something to the extent of “shut the hell up” in Ryll.

Kallus pays it no heed, and simply swallows until Jun is completely spent, before drawing off his softening cock and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Jun is content to lie in the afterglow of the best orgasm he’s had in years - until he feels a strong hand cup his chin, forcing him - gently - to look up. Kallus, hair tousled and lips now obscenely reddened and swollen, is leaning back against he opposite end of the sleeping berth, his legs spread invitingly. He looks at Sato through his lashes, lazily palming the now very obvious hard-on through his shorts.

“Your turn, Commander,” he purrs, pulling Jun forward.


End file.
